Yukikaze: Boomerang Squadron
by Q42
Summary: Sequel to Homecoming. The human race thought the JAM were gone. And even when their presence on Earth is revealed, the powers-that-be refuse to acknowledge the threat. Now, humanity's only hope lies with an elite combat unit: Boomerang Squadron.
1. Prologue

Yukikaze: Boomerang Squadron

By Q42

---

Sequel to _Homecoming_. The human race thought its war with the JAM was over. The Passageway has been closed for years. The aliens haven't shown themselves for nearly half a decade.

In the absence of a common enemy, humanity has split once more into feuding factions. International conflict and political intrigue threaten to plunge the Earth into a new World War.

Even when a surprise attack reveals the JAM's presence on Earth, the powers-that-be refuse to acknowledge the threat they pose, too focused on their own agendas to care.

Now, the Earth's only hope for survival will rest with a small, elite combat unit, tasked with finding and defeating the JAM on Earth:

Boomerang Squadron.

---

Prologue: Variables

---

_Well, that didn't exactly go as planned._

In the vast thoughtspace of the Whole, the voice seemed to echo through the immensity. Spoken by one component, the message was received by many others, which directed their attention to this new, unanticipated situation.

Unexpected events sent shockwaves of distress throughout the Whole. Was the Equation in error? Were there more variables than anticipated? At its core, the probability tree sprouted an unruly tangle of possible outcomes.

Many of the new branches ended in failure.

As one, the components that had tasked themselves with understanding the new permutation experienced recorded input. A Combat Composite was in the process of canceling out an Individual flyer – a common enough operation. The Whole had isolated and cancelled many of the Individuals' units before. The Combat Composites had proven themselves particularly useful for this method of variable elimination – even during their earliest proofs, none had ever been rendered null by an Individual unit.

Until now.

Suddenly, the Individual unit flipped over backward, its forward end now pointing directly back at the Combat Composite, and unleashed entropy-inducing velocity-mass quantities. Successful solution paths were rendered null as the Combat Composite was simplified, its left velocity function canceled.

The pursuit continued, but in the end, the probability tree was pared down until there were only two open paths: success by mutual cancellation, or utter failure. Ultimately, the Individual unit prevailed; exploiting the Combat Composite's greater inertial quantity, it induced the Composite to perform a radical Y-axis-only maneuver, then generated a positive-slope concave curve before the Combat Composite could match its vector change. The recorded input ceased; the Combat Composite had failed.

_It wasn't my fault! I tried to take that damn thing out! How was I supposed to know it would be able to pull up faster than I could?_

The Whole shuddered, parsing what little useful data the emotionally-charged outburst contained. The Individuals' manner of processing was a grotesque, alien thing to it. Indeed, that was why it had converted so many Individual units into its own components. Unable to fully comprehend the warped, convoluted decision paths of its enemies, the Whole instead used these new components as conversion factors, rendering the actions of other Individuals somewhat more comprehensible.

This particular variable had proven extremely difficult to cancel. It was a composite function, meshing the strange, unpredictable behavior of an Individual with a precise, efficient problem-solving capacity similar to that of the Whole itself. Contrary to all expectations, this single composite function had nullified numerous successful probability paths and cancelled many of the Whole's components. It had even managed to solve many of the false inputs the Whole had used to confuse and cancel out the Individuals, forcing the Whole to employ ever more complicated stratagems. Thanks to this Terran Composite, the Equation of the Optimal Solution had come to seem less a straight, perfect line than a twisting, convoluted path through a maze of chaotic probabilities.

_The reappearance of the Composite was unexpected, particularly at this time. If it can indeed detect us, and allows the humans to anticipate our actions, this could cause significant problems. The Equation will have to be altered._

_And what if there is no solution? On Earth, we are only a fragment, not the true Whole, nor even a complete processing node. We are still too weak to risk detection by opening a permanent Conduit. We should seek a different Solution; open a Conduit briefly, upload that which has been learned here, then dismantle the physical components on this planet before the humans can destroy us. We could leave this world in peace; there are many other planets that could be converted more easily than this one._

_Ah, of course. This is not the first time we have heard this argument from you. The Whole is familiar with your sympathy for the humans, and your regret over losing your original human existence. But never forget, the Whole has already determined the ideal outcome for this star system. The solution need not be resolved – it has already been calculated and given. Our task is to reach that solution by whatever means necessary, not attempt to recalculate the entire Equation from scratch._

_But perhaps we must! If the Equation needs to be reevaluated, let's do it! And if we were wrong before, let's make changes to it and alter our approach._

_The Whole has given this fragmentary node a task to perform. Until we can safely open another Conduit and establish communication with the rest of the Whole, we cannot presume to recalculate the Equation ourselves. The Whole is greater than any component, and it was the Whole that gave us our task before the Conduit was collapsed._

_Don't get too upset over last night's failure. This could be a blessing in disguise. That this composite life-form managed to defeat so many of our units, despite our advancements in technology and strategy, shows that there is still room for continued evolution. We will find a way to meet this challenge, and the Whole will become even stronger as a result._

_We are making a mistake by remaining here. If we attempt to overcome the humans, and they retaliate by destroying us, then all the data gathered here will be destroyed with us. The Whole will have learned nothing, and every human component here – every one of us! – will be obliterated._

_And if we fail, then the Whole will simply delete us as useless components. At least by trying to serve the Whole, we have a hope of survival. Don't forget, Julia: the Whole reformatted us as components of itself. It made us what we are, and it can unmake us just as easily. Only by helping to convert this world into a new processing node can we prove our usefulness to the Whole and avoid deletion._

_So that's it, then? Only by exterminating our own species can we hope to preserve our lives?_

_The human race is not our species any more, Julia. We are components of the Whole now. We must do what is best for it, and for ourselves._

_There must be some other way…._

_And why must there?_ Another asked. _Just kill 'em all, or make them kill themselves. Either way, once the human race is gone, this planet will be ours for the taking. Hell, at least the Whole will do something productive with it._

_You sound so eager to kill humans. It's hard to believe that you were one yourself, once._

_Hey, I don't owe those apes any favors. I risked my ass to save them, time and again, and what did I get to show for it? Nothing. Not even a goddamn pension. Now I'm part of the Whole – and so are you, love. Deal with it._

_Unlike you, I never _asked_ to be this way!_

ENOUGH.

The mighty collective voice of the Whole brought an end to its Individual components' bickering.

GIVEN: THE INDIVUALS ARE AWARE OF OUR PRESENCE ON THIS PLANET.

GIVEN: THE COMPOSITE LIFE-FORM IS THE SINGLE GREATEST THREAT TO COMPLETION OF OUR GIVEN TASK.

GIVEN: THE INDIVUALS ARE UNABLE TO UNITE AS A SINGLE WHOLE.

GIVEN: EFFORTS ARE ALREADY UNDERWAY TO DECREASE THE WHOLE'S PERCEIVED THREAT LEVEL AMONG THE INDIVIDUALS.

GIVEN: EFFORTS ARE ALREADY UNDERWAY TO DIVIDE THE INDIVIDUALS FURTHER.

PROBABLE OUTCOME: DUE TO DISUNITY AMONG THE INDIVIDUALS, THEY WILL BE UNABLE TO FULLY CONCENTRATE THEIR DEFENSIVE CAPABILITIES AS AFTER OUR FIRST ENCOUNTER. THE COMPOSITE LIFE-FORM WILL MOST LIKELY BE USED AS A COMPONENT OF A SMALL SEARCH-AND-DESTROY UNIT.

POSSIBLE SOLUTIONS: PHYSICAL DESTRUCTION OF THE COMPOSITE LIFE-FORM IS STILL POSSIBLE. INFILTRATION OF THE SEARCH-AND-DESTROY UNIT IS POSSIBLE. ESCALATING THE PERCEIVED DANGER LEVEL OF OTHER THREATS IS POSSIBLE.

_What say we do all three?_

ACCEPTABLE.

Throughout its vast thoughtspace, the Whole marshaled its forces. While still in embryo here on the Individuals' home planet, this partial processing node still possessed vast physical and computational resources. Already, the small but powerful fragment of the Whole was computing how best to undermine the Individuals' defensive capabilities, sow disunity among them, and cancel any factors that might threaten its survival.

Particularly the composite life-form called _Yukikaze_ ….

---


	2. Recruitment

---

Chapter One: Recruitment

---

Sarah Jackson gazed out the window of the tilt-engine transport, watching fluffy white clouds flash by. The thirteen-year-old was used to flying: she took jets at least twice a year, heading from her father's apartment in New York to her mother and stepfather's farm in Iowa every summer, then back again. She had always loved listening to the roar of a passenger liner's engines as they cycled up, then the roller-coaster thrill of acceleration and liftoff. Where most other people hated turbulence and choppy air during a flight, Sarah just hung on and enjoyed the ride.

Now, as she flew through the skies over the Indian Ocean, Sarah marveled at just how fast this Air Defense Force transport could go. There were no queasy passengers on this flight – Jack, her mother, and the flight crew were no strangers to high-speed flight. After making sure Sarah was all right with it, the pilot had gradually accelerated to over seven hundred miles per hour. Eventually, the quad-engine jet transport had passed the sound barrier, a fantastic sonic _BOOM!_ sending tremors through its sturdy metal frame.

For the first few minutes, Sarah had been pushed back into her seat, her eyes watering, gripping the armrests tightly, a huge smile plastered all over her face. This was _way_ better than the big, clunky civilian jets she was used to!

Once they had reached supercruise, Colonel Wright, the man who had brought them all together, hit a switch. A metal table rose up from the floor, a cover sliding off its small holographic projector system. "If you'll all join me over here, we can begin our discussion."

"About damn time," Jack grumbled, unbuckling his seat belt and making his way over. Sarah didn't quite understand why her stepfather was being so grumpy: when last she'd seen him, Jack Bukhar had been calm and content, watching the evening news with Sarah and her mother, Lynn, before they had all gone off to bed.

The next morning, Sarah had woken up alone in the house, with only a note from her mother that had told her Jack had been called away during the night. When her mother had come home by herself later that morning, Lynn would only say that Jack had been asked to help with some kind of classified mission in Antarctica. Even though she could read the worry on her mother's face, Sarah couldn't help but think it was cool that her stepdad, a retired Special Air Force pilot and squadron leader, was still important enough to be called out on top-secret missions.

Then, three days later, this big, high-tech ADF transport had touched down on their driveway, and this same Colonel had invited Sarah and Lynn along to pick up Jack.

"First of all, I'd like to know where you get off roping my family into this," Jack growled. "If you want to talk to me, then fire away, but if you think you can influence my decisions by threatening them—"

"Whoa! Hold on there, Major! Nobody's threatening anyone. It's just that we wanted to give you the opportunity to consult with your family. I'm afraid we need your help, and given that you're a family man, we were sure you'd want to consult with your wife and daughter before making any important decisions. This way, we can all sit down and talk things over without having to use unsecured communications."

"Well, that seems very considerate of you," Lynn said, settling into a seat by the table. "But just what sort of decisions are you expecting my husband to make?"

"To be frank, Mrs. Bukhar, the United Nations Air Defense Force isn't ready to fight the JAM yet." The Colonel tapped a few keys, and a holographic blue globe of the Earth appeared, with part of Asia and a wide swath of Africa highlighted in red. "For the last decade, most of our operations have centered on assisting relief efforts in Africa and searching for jihadis in the Middle East. Air-to-air combat has become a kind of lost art, I'm afraid.

A red dot appeared in the Southern Ocean. "As you now know, forty-eight hours ago, a squadron of alien Jet-powered Airborne Mechanoids, or JAM, attacked the Antarctic carrier fleet."

"Yeah," Jack said. "I was there, remember?"

"Exactly. For the last two days, the ADF has been trying to put together some kind of effective response to the JAM threat. However, as I'm sure you're aware, the Security Council has been reluctant to acknowledge the true extent of the problem for years. They feel that our resources are stretched to the breaking point as it is, without having to commit to a full-on war with the JAM. The United States, Japan, Russia, and others are pressuring the Security Council to keep a lid on the Antarctic raid."

"But that doesn't make any sense!" Jack exclaimed. "They just crippled an entire carrier fleet! And they would have killed us all if Rei hadn't taken out their command unit. The JAM are more dangerous than all the roadside bombs and hijacked airplanes of the last fifty years put together!"

"But nobody wants to believe that," Lynn said quietly. Having researched the JAM threat for most of her life, she was all too aware of humanity's tendency to ignore them. "To most people, the JAM are an enemy 'out there' somewhere. They haven't attacked ordinary people, just military personnel. They retreated back to Fairy after just a few air battles over a frozen continent at the bottom of the world, where hardly anyone lives anyway. Compared to terrorist attacks, which can target anyone anywhere, or humanitarian crises where you see images of starving children on the news every night, it simply doesn't have the same emotional impact on ordinary people. And without massive popular support, no politician in his right mind would dare launch a serious offensive against a well-armed, technologically advanced enemy like the JAM."

"It's still stupid," Jack replied. "If we keep on ignoring the JAM, even when they launch attacks like the one I saw, it just gives them more time to get stronger. Eventually, they'll be powerful enough to come out of hiding and wipe us all out. Then all those starving babies in Somalia will die, all right – along with every other human being on the planet!"

The Colonel nodded. "Now you understand how we feel. Not everybody in the ADF is blind to the severity of the JAM threat, Major, but I'm afraid we're in the minority. General Cooley has managed to squeeze some additional funding out of the ADF budget for anti-JAM operations, but in all honesty, it's nowhere near the kind of support we need."

"Hold on: General _Cooley_? As in Rydia Cooley?"

The Colonel smiled. "I thought the name might be familiar to you. She's the one keeping the UN from sweeping the JAM under the rug. Since she's the head of Special Operations, the Security Council has to give her at least some respect, even if they don't want to deal with the whole JAM issue."

Jack nodded. "All right. So, not everybody in the ADF has lost their minds. I still don't see what all of this has to do with me, or with my family."

Colonel Wright sighed. "Well, given the lack of experienced combat pilots in the ADF, we've been trying to form a small special-ops unit of FAF veterans. You know as well as I do that the Security Council made a lot of lousy decisions after the Fairy War. Most FAF personnel were simply let go, without pensions or benefits, except for commissioned officers with a rank of Major or above. We've been going down a short list of experienced FAF combat pilots, but most are so bitter about the UN's decision that they refuse to work with the Peacekeeping Forces. Hell, we've even offered promotions and pay raises. But with the exception of your friend Lieutenant Fukai and a few others, most of the people we've spoken to just blow us off. Finding qualified pilots has been difficult, and finding an experienced commander to lead them is even tougher."

"Experienced commander, huh? So you don't just want me to consult; you want me as a full-time unit commander. Is that right?"

"Exactly."

"Well then, I refuse," Jack replied bluntly.

The Colonel nodded at this. "I read your file, so I can't say I'm really surprised by your reaction. You're committed to the people you care for; your friends, your family. You have a good, comfortable family life. And here I am, asking you to jump right back into the fray, fighting for a political entity that left you and a lot of your friends high and dry. Does that sound about right?"

"You left out the fact that the UN left us all 'high and dry' _after_ we'd spent years fighting to protect it and its people. If you're trying to make me out to be an ingrate, you might want to remember that you and your bosses didn't show much gratitude to us after the Fairy War."

"I'm not making you out to be anything, Major. And frankly, you're not the only one who had to adjust after the FAF was disbanded. My unit was dissolved just two days after the Passageway battle. A lot of my pilots were cut loose, and it's taken me five years to get any kind of recognition for the ones who didn't make it back. But even after all that, I still stuck with the ADF. Do you want to know why, Major?"

"Not really, but I'm sure you'll tell me anyway."

"I transferred to the Air Defense Force because I care about the human race. Sure, there are plenty of idiots filling chairs on the Security Council. Sure the bureaucracy can be like a goddamn maze at times. But even with all that, the UN Peacekeeping Force is the only military dedicated to serving the interests of the entire planet.

"To be perfectly frank, Major Bukhar, the human race needs you right now. You, your wife and I are among the few human beings who understand just what our species is up against. You have real combat experience, both as a pilot and as a unit commander.

"And unlike any of the other officers we could be contacting for this position, only you have experience commanding Rei Fukai and the _Yukikaze_." The Colonel tapped a few more keys, and the globe disappeared, replaced by the image of a beautiful, streamlined fighter jet with forward-swept wings. Everyone recognized it:_Yukikaze_, the sentient fighter jet which, in many ways, had brought them all together. "You know what they're capable of, and you know just how important their detection and combat capabilities are to waging an effective campaign against the JAM. Tell me, Major, just what do you think most commanders would make of Lieutenant Fukai?"

Jack couldn't help but wince. He knew better than anyone what Rei Fukai was like: intense, taciturn, at once hot-headed and coldly rational. A withdrawn young man with no patience for what he deemed to be unnecessary distractions – things like having a social life, or respecting authority or protocol for their own sake. Rei's whole life revolved around two primary goals: destroying JAM and flying with his sentient technological "partner", _Yukikaze_. The real, sensitive, insightful Rei Fukai was buried deep beneath layers of defense mechanisms, accessible only to the few people he knew he could trust.

_My first reaction was, "Please, don't let this guy be assigned to my unit." I can't even imagine the hell he'd raise with a commander whom he doesn't know or trust, plus flying with other pilots he doesn't feel comfortable with._

_My duty to my family, or my duty to my best friend. How the hell can I choose?_

Jack glanced at his wife. Lynn met his gaze with her own soft, brown eyes. Jack saw the compassion in them. Lynn knew enough about his friendship with Rei to know that abandoning him would be unthinkable, even if it were for her sake. And in that sympathetic face, he saw Lynn's acceptance.

"Jack," she said quietly, "he's right. I don't want you to leave any more than you want to go. But if you don't, and this special unit doesn't work out, then the JAM will destroy everything sooner or later."

Jack sighed. "Lynn, you know that this special unit is probably going to be mobile. That means I'll be stationed on a carrier somewhere. They won't let you stay with me on a military ship."

Lynn nodded. "I know that. But as much as I wish we could just go back to Iowa and lead a normal life, I'm not sure _I_ could. Not knowing that the JAM are out there somewhere, and that the man best able to fight them won't do it because I'm keeping him at home."

"It doesn't have to be me running this thing. They've got hundreds of top-notch commanders to choose from."

"But none who could lead a Special Operations squadron as well as you, and we both know it. If I have to choose between being a military wife and having Armageddon hanging over both our heads, I'd choose the first one." Jack's wife offered him a wan smile. "Besides, don't tell me there isn't a part of you that wants to be where the action is."

Jack sighed. He and Lynn hardly ever argued; even after only three years of marriage, they knew each other too well. They both knew the facts, and knew that the right decision – the most responsible one – was for Jack to take charge of this new anti-JAM unit.

_But that doesn't mean we have to like it,_ Jack thought. Turning back to Colonel Wright, he looked the man straight in the eye. "All right," he muttered. "I'll do it. I'll put this unit together for you. And once you've managed to bring in the other poor saps crazy enough to fly in it, I'll do my best to keep them alive." Glancing back at his family – Lynn with her sad yet understanding smile, Sarah looking on with her wide, innocent brown eyes – he added. "Just promise me that, whatever happens to me, my family will be all right."

Wright nodded in understanding. "We will. And we won't whisk you away from them just now. Once we reach our base of operations, I'm sure you'll be given at least a few days together. Maybe a week."

Jack cocked an eyebrow. "You'd let civilians onto a military base? For days at a time? Isn't that against regulations?"

The Colonel smiled. "You'll find that Special Operations Command has the leeway to be a bit … unorthodox sometimes. Besides, on our base, we don't exactly have a civilian neighborhood nearby."

"Colonel Wright, Sir!" the pilot called back, "We're almost there."

"Thank you, Captain," the Colonel replied. To Jack and the others, he said, "All right, everybody. I'll need you to strap back in again; we'll be decelerating from supercruise shortly. We're about ten minutes from base."

Sarah looked out the window. "But we're still over the ocean. Are we landing on another carrier?"

The Colonel smiled. "Technically, yes. Though in this case, the term 'landing' is used very loosely."

As the ADF transport slowed from supersonic to conventional flight, Sarah noticed that they were staying at pretty much the same altitude. Normally, on the passenger jets she flew on, the pilots made a long, slow descent while cabin pressure was adjusted. _I wonder why we're staying so high?_

"Attention everyone: we are now on final approach. Please make sure all passengers and loose objects are properly secured."

"But we're still so high up!" Sarah said. "Are we dropping straight down or something?"

Colonel Wright's smile just got wider. "Relax," he said. "If you like military jets, just look ahead of us. _This_ one is the mother of them all."

Following the Colonel's advice, Sarah craned her neck to look down the aisle. In front of them was a dense cloud bank, obscuring the view ahead.

Then the clouds parted, and Sarah felt her jaw drop open in shock.

A long time ago, when Jack had told her about the last battle of the Fairy War, he had mentioned a big transport plane called a Banshee. Out of curiosity, Sarah had Googled it that night. There had been some aerial photos of a strange-looking aircraft with six wings, two forward-swept and four backward-swept, stacked on top of one another. She had read a Wikipedia article about Banshees: how they were basically flying supercarriers, with room inside for two full wings of military aircraft, including several cargo planes. Back then, she had thought they were big.

Up close, this Banshee was enormous.

As the transport drew closer, the Banshee filled the view in front, and Sarah could see its uppermost starboard wing stretching away on her right. It occurred to her that its expansive surface area, along with those of the other five wings, was what kept the gigantic airship aloft. That, and the power of the twin fusion reactors feeding its fourteen massive turbofan engines.

Banshees were simply too big to land. Regular refueling flights brought tritium pellets for their reactors, and cargo and tanker planes brought up whatever material their crew and aircraft needed. They were so huge, powerful and expensive that only four had ever been constructed, two for the UN Air Defense Force and two for the Fairy Air Force. All four had been in service for nearly forty years, since shortly after the JAM first came through the Passageway.

Banshees had been designed to deploy overwhelming air power anywhere in the world within hours, and could loiter over an area for nearly unlimited periods.

And if necessary, a single Banshee carried enough missiles, bombs, troops and combat aircraft to fight a small war by itself.

Coming toward the behemoth from its rear, the VTOL transport slowed, letting a catch arm slide up and clamp onto its forward landing gear. There was a dull thud, a jerk, and a quick ratcheting sound as the arm brought them to a gentle stop. _No,_ Sarah realized, _we're only stopped relative to the Banshee. Just how fast is this whole thing moving?_

Within moments, the transport was guided onto a rectangular platform, where clamps attached to its landing gear to hold it in place. With a mechanical whir, the platform slid forward, taking them in through the protection gate. The platform moved along a track, sliding into the middle of the upper maintenance bay. Then the platform turned and took them left, sliding along the length of the lowest portside wing.

Dozens of aircraft passed by the side windows: F-22 Raptors, F-35 Lightning IIs, Su-37 Terminators, Su-47 Golden Eagles, Kawasaki P-1s, F2 Typhoons, FFR-31 Sylphids, FA-2 Fand IIs, and a host of others. This entire deck seemed dedicated to housing fighters and interceptor craft. _That makes sense; if the Banshee gets attacked, the fighters are right here next to the catapults._

Then their platform reached a vertical shaft, descending beneath the fighter deck. Sarah tried to remember just how many hangar decks Banshees had. _Three? Four? I know the lowest one is the biggest; that's where they keep the cargo planes._

The second deck seemed to be their stop. The platform ramped forward again, then turned into an empty slot. Their VTOL transport slid in between two similar-looking aircraft, its nose pointing toward the track in the center of the deck. With a shudder, the platform locked in place.

_I'm on board a Banshee. With my family. For maybe a week. This is going to be the most awesome summer vacation _ever_!_

Smiling, Colonel Wright unfastened his harness and walked over to Jack. Clapping a hand on the man's shoulder, he said, "Welcome aboard Banshee One, Lieutenant Colonel Bukhar."

---


	3. Reactivated

---

Chapter Two: Reactivated

---

"_Banshee One to B-3, you are cleared to land on the upper receiving deck. Your assigned slot will be A-7."_

"This is B-3, roger that. We're on approach now." Glancing at _Yukikaze_'s monitor screen, Rei noted that the difference between his fighter's own forward velocity and the carrier's was only fifteen miles per hour, with _Yukikaze_ moving slightly faster to meet the catch arm in front of them. Once the fighter's forward landing gear was locked in, Rei switched her engines off, letting the carrier airship's transport mechanisms do the work. "Well, that flight went well. Guess we loaded up on all those missiles for nothing."

_Yukikaze_ made no reply, other than a quiet whir of her cockpit camera. To Rei, it gave the distinct impression of a shrug: _Oh, well. Better safe than sorry._ Sometimes Rei wondered what would happen if, someday, someone ever programmed his steel-and-composite partner to speak. He couldn't imagine her as the chatty type; they got along just fine with _Yukikaze_'s limited but growing text vocabulary, Rei's voice, and the mental link that allowed them to communicate whatever their words missed.

Rei rarely talked about his connection to _Yukikaze_ with anyone. He had gotten enough funny looks over the years to know to keep his mouth shut about their unique bond. Jack understood to a limited extent – he had even received one of their mental images, giving him a tiny glimpse of their inner universe. Still, even Jack couldn't fully understand what it was like. Whenever they flew together, Rei and _Yukikaze_ were like a single entity – human and machine minds functioning together, assisting and complementing one another like two halves of the same being. Even when separated, Rei could feel that mental and emotional bond to _Yukikaze_ like a door at the back of his mind, through which he could just make out her "voice" during the day, and through which she entered his dreams at night.

Of course, nobody but Jack had ever believed a word of it. One base physician had written a long list of the things she thought were wrong with his mental state. And every tech he had broached the topic with tended to write it off as metaphysical mumbo-jumbo. _Except for Tomahawk; he knew _Yukikaze_ had become more than a machine. If only other people could see that…._

A soft thud woke Rei from his reverie.

LANDING GR LOCKED

MISSION CMPL

"All right. Display system status."

A blue-and-green schematic appeared on the screen.

ALL SYS OK

1500kg FUEL REMAINING

"Well, I'm sure they have plenty here for you. I've got to go and figure out what we're doing now."

ROGER, Lt.

I WISH YOU LUCK

"You too," Rei replied, flipping the canopy release switch. _Yukikaze_'s motors whirred, sliding the cockpit module back and up, the canopy hinging open to let him out. As Rei climbed down from his seat, he noticed a number of pilots and maintenance personnel gathering around the sleek blue-and-gray fighter. From what Rei understood, _Yukikaze_ was one of only a handful of FFR-41-MR Maves ever produced, and the only one that had made it back to Earth. Originally designed as unmanned fighters during the Fairy War, _Yukikaze_ had uploaded herself into one when her original FFR-31-MR/D Super Sylph body had been shot down by a JAM infiltrator. Jack had gotten the unmanned unit's forward optical package replaced by the cockpit module _Yukikaze_ now used.

When Rei had asked him why, Jack had simply responded that, even then, he knew that _Yukikaze_ needed her pilot.

After the Fairy War, expensive, super-maneuverable fighters like the Mave weren't needed, so production had been halted. These days, nearly half of all the world's air forces consisted of cheap, unmanned drones, designed to loiter over ground targets, record data, drop bombs, and just maybe shoot down an enemy drone or two. No wonder the techs gathered, awestruck, around _Yukikaze_; she was at once a cutting-edge combat airplane, and a relic of another age.

"So, this is a Mave, huh? I didn't even know one existed until ATC told me to come and service it." Rei turned around to regard a tall female tech, her short blonde hair just peeking out from under her orange cap. The tech stood with her hands on her hips, admiring _Yukikaze_.

"Yeah," Rei replied. "Fighters evolve; only the fittest make it back to base. _Yukikaze_ evolved to fight JAM."

The tech nodded. "_Yukikaze_, huh? You named it after the Mave that took out the Passageway, right?"

"This _is_ the one that took out the Passageway."

"Uh-huh. And you are…?"

"First Lieutenant Rei Fukai. I'm _Yukikaze_'s pilot."

The tech cocked an eyebrow. "My dad and I served in the FAF; Rei Fukai died when the Passageway was blown up. So, who are you?"

Rei felt his frustration building. "I'm the guy who helped blow up the Passageway, flew through as it collapsed, then came out over Antarctica five years after I went in on the Fairy end. And I'm the guy who sat in an interrogation cell for most of a week because nobody would believe it."

As the woman met Rei's gray-eyed, penetrating gaze, her mouth dropped open in shock. "Wait a minute … you're really _the_ Rei Fukai? As in, the one who took on a million JAM by himself? No way."

"You want to take my fingerprints too? A DNA sample? You wouldn't be the first this week."

The tech stood there, baffled for a moment. Then she tentatively held out her hand. "Leslie Gellar, Tech Sergeant. I'm in charge of maintenance for A-block. If you really are Rei Fukai, then I should thank you for saving my father's life, not to mention my own."

Rei looked a little curiously at the proffered hand. Most people instinctively shied away from his icy demeanor – having a total stranger asking for his handshake was a rare thing for Rei Fukai_._ Somewhat awkwardly, Rei stuck out his hand and returned the gesture. "You're welcome."

"Excuse me! Excuse me! Coming through!" called a somewhat anxious-sounding voice. Looking behind Tech Sergeant Gellar, Rei spotted a relatively young man in a white coat making his way past the maintenance crew. The poor guy had "lab rat" written all over him, from his little round glasses to his short black hair, much of which stood straight up as though holding a perpetual static charge. As Rei caught sight of him, the young man apparently picked him out from among the other pilots and maintenance personnel moving around _Yukikaze_. "Lieutenant Fukai! Lieutenant Fukai! There you are!"

Rei couldn't help but step back as the lab rat skidded to a halt in front of him. "How do you know who I am?" he asked, letting a slight edge creep into his voice.

"Ah, well, I was told to speak with you, and they gave me your photo and a dossier file. Is it true that you were temporally dislocated?"

"Yes," Rei answered bluntly. _Now, can this guy explain to me _how_, or will he just fire off a bunch of questions until I shake him off?_

"All right. Well, I was just wondering if you could describe what it was like. Did you experience any sensation of time-dilation? Nausea? Bright flashes of light or color? Strange sounds? Smells?" The tech reached into his lab coat and produced a small digital recorder, which clicked as he switched it on.

_Strange smells? That's a new one._ "Look, traveling through the Passageway is … was simple. You fly in at the right angle, and the inrushing winds carry you through the dimensional gate. The local electrical field gets stronger, and you feel a quick jerk, and that's about it. The last time, _Yukikaze_ and I just did the same maneuver. It didn't feel any different to me, except for the fact that there were about half a million JAM on our tail and three nuclear warheads were just about to go off. We got caught in a storm on the Earth end, and I got knocked around. When I came to, I was stuck in an interrogation cell and people were telling me I'd been missing for five years. And there were no strange smells. Does that answer your questions?"

Rei hadn't intended to get angry; really, he hadn't. But even the memory of those five days aboard the _Hogosha_ was enough to make him clench his fists, raise his voice, and practically growl the last several sentences. By the time he'd finished, the lab tech looked downright scared, his recorder clasped protectively in front of him. "Um, yeah, I think so," he said, then clicked off the device. "Anyway, they told me to tell you that we're meeting in Conference Room B on A Deck. General Cooley and your squadron leader are already up there." Having delivered his message, the young tech made a hasty retreat through the crowd around the platform.

"Well, that was nice," Tech Sergeant Gellar said with a touch of sarcasm. "I take it grouchiness is a side-effect of time travel?"

"Only when people keep badgering me about it," Rei replied, giving her a somewhat frosty glance.

Gellar just sighed. "Yep, you must be Rei Fukai." With a shrug, the Technical Sergeant turned away and went to work.

_I wonder what_ that_'s_ _supposed to mean_, Rei thought. Sighing, he made his way to an elevator. _So, I get to meet my new squadron leader, huh? God, I miss Jack already._ Even though he knew the ADF had offered Jack a position, Rei was sure that his old friend and commander had refused. Nobody pushed Jack Bukhar around, and from what Rei could tell, he had a good thing going with Lynn. _They're probably on their way back to Iowa right now. I've got to look up their phone number sometime._

As the elevator ascended up from the hangar deck, Rei considered all that had changed in the last five years. So far, he hadn't even bothered to turn on a television to watch the news. From what Jack and others had been telling him, though, it sounded like things had been going downhill for a while on Earth. Even before the Fairy War had ended, several armed conflicts had broken out, especially in the Middle East. The global economy was in the midst of a major recession. Terrorist attacks – some launched by jihadis, some by hate groups, and even some by radical environmental groups – were becoming more frequent and destructive. Add to that all the ecological mayhem of a warming planet, including severe droughts in Africa, and you got an image of barely-restrained chaos. Even the United Nations seemed unable to arbitrate the dozens of international feuds flaring up among its members.

_Just perfect for the JAM. While we fight each other, all they have to do is lie low somewhere and build up their army. Then, when they're ready, they can just come out and conquer one area at a time. As long as the human race is divided against itself, we won't be able to mount a unified defense like we did the first time the JAM came through the Passageway. I guess that means it's up to us to destroy them before they reach full strength. I just wonder who else they're bringing in, besides _Yukikaze_ and me._

At last, the elevator reached A Deck, and Rei stepped off. It didn't take him long to locate the big, circular conference room aft of the carrier's bridge. Tapping the intercom switch, he said, "This is Rei Fukai. I was told I'd be meeting somebody in here."

"Come in," a calm female voice said through the speaker. The steel door slid open with a whir, revealing six chairs around a circular holo-projector table. At the far end, facing toward the door, was General Rydia Cooley herself. She looked almost exactly the same as when Rei had last seen her – a week ago from his own time-warped perspective, and almost five years ago according to objective time. Her shoulder-length red hair still made her complexion look pale, almost unhealthily so. She still wore a long dress beneath her professional-looking uniform blouse, a fur-lined jacket helping to warm her slim, long-limbed body. The only real difference Rei could see was that her uniform was now the sky-blue of the UN Air Defense Force, with the globe-and-olive-branch design embroidered on both shoulders. That, plus she now wore four stars on her epaulets.

The tall Colonel who had come to offer Rei his job occupied the chair to the right of General Cooley. A short, burly-looking man filled the chair on the General's other side. He had broad shoulders, a large round nose, rosy cheeks, and a thick red beard that all but hid his lips. A single silver star adorned his collar, marking him as a Brigadier General. Unlike the others, his uniform was black, with a diamond-shaped insignia featuring a winged sword on one shoulder, the UN logo on the other. _I'd hate to go up against that guy in a fight,_ Rei thought to himself, eyeing Redbeard's big, meaty hands and frosty blue eyes.

The same lab-coated young man Rei had encountered on the hangar deck occupied the chair to the Colonel's right. As Rei entered, the younger man fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat, looking nervously at the gray-eyed pilot.

In the fifth chair – just to the right of the empty one meant for Rei – sat Jack Bukhar.

As Rei stood in the doorway, trying to process the sight of long-haired, unshaven Jack sitting at this meeting of high-ranking ADF personnel, General Cooley gestured toward the sixth chair. "Glad you could join us, Lieutenant," the General said pleasantly. "I apologize to you, and to Lieutenant Colonel Bukhar, for snatching you off the _Hogosha_ without warning. But we have a lot to do, and it seemed best to bring you in as early as possible."

Taking his seat beside Jack, Rei gave his friend a questioning glance. _Lieutenant Colonel? So then…?_

Jack nodded. Clearly, he wasn't happy about it. Rei got the feeling they had a lot of talking to do once this meeting let out.

Which promised to be quite soon indeed; General Cooley had never been one for small talk. With a few quick taps of her long, well-polished nails, the viewer flickered to life. A blue globe of the Earth appeared suspended in the air. Pages of data orbited the holographic sphere, along with what Rei recognized as wire frame models of various Earth fighter jets.

"Now then. Let's figure out how to save the world with eight pilots, five planes, and very little time."

---


	4. Reluctant Heroes

---

Chapter Three: Reluctant Heroes

---

The Banshee's wings were long, wide and thick enough to fit crew quarters in their center areas, and the uppermost wings generally housed officers with a rank of captain or above. Compartment 247 had no nameplate, so Rei tapped the door chime and waited.

"Who's there?" a familiar voice called out.

"Jack, it's Rei. Can I come in?"

"I was wondering when you'd show up. Just a sec." The hatch slid open, revealing Jack, clad in a pair of khakis and a red button-down shirt. He looked almost as Rei remembered him from their tour of duty on Fairy, except for the much longer hair and somewhat scruffier-looking beard.

"You look good, Jack."

"Yeah, well, thanks," Jack said sourly. Looking in, Rei noticed Sarah lying on the bunk, Lynn sitting on a chair further in. "So, they managed to pull you back in, huh?"

"It's … complicated," Jack muttered.

"I thought you were retired."

"I was, until Wright basically told me I was the human race's best hope for survival."

Rei winced. "Well, that's a real recruitment pitch. I thought that was why they were so quick to take _me_ back. So they're pressuring you to join this new unit?"

"I wouldn't say pressuring, exactly. More like making me choose between what I _want_ to be doing—" Jack glanced back at his family, a look of longing in his eyes, then turned back to meet Rei's gaze. "—and what we know I _should_ be doing."

Looking into his friend's eyes, Rei saw more there. _They're bringing him in because of me._ "Look, Jack, you don't have to come back into the military just to babysit me. I'm here because I want to stay with _Yukikaze_, and I'll fly with whoever I have to, under whatever commander I have to, to make that work. Don't feel like you've got to join up to keep me out of trouble."

"Don't I? And just what would you do if you got stuck with a brown-noser like Takamoto? Or with some by-the-book tight-ass who doesn't understand you or _Yukikaze_? You're telling me you'd be just fine with that?"

Rei almost answered yes, but stopped himself short.

He never had been able to lie to Jack.

Jack just nodded. "I thought not. Get some rest; the new recruits will be here tomorrow evening. I'll need you to help me put together a briefing."

Rei shuffled his feet anxiously, feeling at once guilty that he had pretty much pulled Jack into this mess, and relieved that his old friend would be his XO again. Then his eyes met those of Lynn, and realized that this whole arrangement wouldn't just affect him and Jack. "Uh," he started, trying to think of something appropriate to say.

"Hello," Lynn said quietly. "It's nice to finally see you again, Lieutenant Fukai."

"Uh, yeah, thanks," the young pilot murmured. "It's nice to see you too. Look, I'm really sorry abou—"

Lynn shook her head. "You don't have to be sorry about anything, Lieutenant. I was the one who talked Jack into joining this new JAM task force. You're both needed here. Sarah and I will be all right." Looking at Jack she added, "These ADF people were nice enough to let us stay aboard the airship for a few days. We'll get at least that much time together before your next shore leave."

Then the brown-haired girl on the cot sat up. "So, you're really going to be flying fighter planes? With Jack?"

Jack gave his stepdaughter a grin. "Oh, I won't be flying. I'll be helping Rei and the others coordinate what they're doing."

If anything, Sarah looked a little disappointed. Then she turned back to Rei and said, "Just promise you'll keep him safe, okay?"

Rei nodded, a little nervously; he never had been very good around kids. "Sure. Hell, usually it's Jack who saves my ass. But if I ever get the chance to return the favor, you can bet I'll pay him back."

The girl nodded, accepting the promise, and Rei was struck by how much she resembled Lynn. "All right. Thanks." Then, "That plane back on the carrier … that was _Yukikaze_, wasn't it?"

Rei felt the ghost of a smile on his lips, just thinking about his other half. "Yeah."

"Well, since Mom and I are here for the next couple of days … well, could you show it to me? I mean, up close?"

Rei was taken aback by the girl's directness, glancing uncertainly at Jack. The taller man just shrugged: _Your call._

Rei glanced down at the brown-haired teen, whose eyes gazed calmly into his own. There was curiosity there, and a kind of excitement, but not in that annoying, clingy, juvenile way kids tended to have. Sarah Jackson was calm and mature.

"Sure," Rei replied with a nod. "I'll take you to meet her."

Sarah's face lit up with an enormous grin. "Yes!" She practically flew off the mattress, throwing her shoes on, ready to go in seconds. "Thank you!"

Rei couldn't help but smile at the kid's eagerness. "No problem. Any friend of Jack's is a friend of mine." He nodded toward Lynn, letting the older woman know that his words applied to her as well. Jack's wife smiled, nodding slightly in acknowledgement.

Stepping back out of the room, Rei motioned for Sarah to come with him. "Now, don't go wandering off. The corridors on these Banshees all tend to look the same, so it's easy to get lost."

The door closed, and the sounds of Rei and Sarah talking faded down the corridor. Leaning against the cot, Jack sighed, closing his eyes. When he opened them, Lynn was there beside him, holding his hand in hers.

"Well, at least one of us is gonna enjoy this," Jack murmured.

"Jack, you know what a smart girl Sarah is. She knows this is going to be her last chance to see you for a while. She's just chosen to put a bright face on things, instead of moping around. We need to do the same thing."

"I know. I'm just … I'm sorry for getting you involved."

Lynn smiled. "You two. 'I'm sorry for this,' 'I'm sorry for that'. I told you before: I know that this is what you're meant to be doing right now. I've made my peace with it, and I'm proud of you for taking on the responsibility. Now, you need to quit feeling guilty." She leaned in and gave her husband a kiss on the cheek. "Can you do that, Jack?"

"Yeah, I can. Hell, once I get back in the swing of things, I'll probably even begin to enjoy it. And that scares me."

"Why? You don't want to enjoy your work?"

"You _are_ my life's work. You, and Sarah. I swore the day we married that you would always come first. I don't want to become…"

He sighed, shaking his head. "I don't want to become what Rei is."

"And what, exactly, is Rei?"

"Nothing. Nothing but his job, his mission, his plane. When he came back … when they told him he wouldn't fly again … it was like a hole had been ripped out of him. And the only thing that can fill it is _Yukikaze_. And someday, when this fight is over … God, Lynn. I live in fear of that day. Of what he'll do when they try and take _Yukikaze_ away from him."

Lynn put a hand on his shoulder. "Well, that's something he'll have to come to terms with. But you, Jack … you can't let that kind of worrying consume you. It won't do either of you any good. Whatever happens to Rei … he'll deal with that when the time comes. All you can do is support him, and help keep him alive."

Jack nodded. "I know. I will. I just wish I didn't have to leave you and Sarah to do it."

Lynn shrugged. "We'll be fine. And I'll feel a lot better knowing that Lieutenant Colonel Bukhar is up here, keeping me and the rest of civilization safe."

Jack sighed, leaning into Lynn's embrace, letting her stroke his long, blonde hair. "And I'll feel better knowing Lynn Bukhar is safe on the ground, waiting for me when all this is over."

Lynn smiled. "That's the spirit. Just look at it this way: you'll be helping to do research my new book."

"What new book?"

Lynn brought her husband's eyes up to meet hers. "The last chapter in the Fairy War," she replied. "_The Defender._ And you'll be giving it its happy ending."

---


	5. Briefing

**Author's Note:** As always, comments are appreciated - I tried to put together a semi-realistic mission briefing to introduce our OC's, and I hope the details aren't too badly mangled. Any reviews, criticism, and suggestions are welcome. Thanks to all you faithful reviewers who have encouraged me to keep writing this story, and I hope you enjoy this chapter!

* * *

Chapter Four: Briefing

* * *

They came from all over the Earth.

They flew in from China, from Brazil; from Britain, America, and Germany; from the islands of the Pacific, and from the Czech Republic.

These were the best fighter pilots in the world – at least, the best ones who were willing to take the job. All eight – including Rei – had fought the JAM on Fairy. And now, they were back to hunt them down on Earth. Looking over his new squadron, Lieutenant Colonel Jack Bukar regarded humanity's last, best hope.

_We've got a lot of work to do._ "Hey! Break it up, you two!"

The lithe, short-haired Chinese pilot released her lip-lock on the American next to her. "What?"

"You know that dating within the same command structure is against regs. As much as I hate nosing around in my pilots' personal lives, PDA's right in the middle of the hangar deck are beyond what even I'm willing to tolerate."

"Uh, well, we are kind of married," the American replied with a shrug.

_Married? Wha…? _Jack rifled through the dossiers he had been given. _Wu Daiyu and William Carson … Wu served in the SAF, Carson in the FAF … both signed on with the ADF after the Fairy War … both married a year after the war ended? Damn!_ "Is this some kind of joke?" Jack said aloud. "What idiot decided to let a husband and wife serve together in the same unit?!?"

"What, aren't you the guy in charge?" Carson asked, a little lopsided smile on his face.

"You bet your ass I am!" Jack shot back, fixing the well-muscled American with a glare. "Jesus Christ. When Wright said the ADF was unorthodox, I didn't know he meant totally undisciplined. Married or not, you two will keep your hands to yourselves, or I'll treat you just like any pair of hotheads who can't keep it in their pants. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir," the duo murmured.

"_What was that?"_ Jack roared, the old training routine coming back to him like riding a bicycle.

"Yes, Sir!" the pilots shouted, now standing at attention.

Jack nodded, letting his frosty gaze linger on each in turn. "Better." Leafing through the list of names, he started taking roll. "Well, we know that Wu and Carson are here. Gonçalves, Paulo!"

"Here, Sir," called the lean, dark-skinned Brazilian at one end of the line, dressed in an olive-green FAB uniform.

"All right. Von Richtofen, Axel!"

"Present, Sir," replied a tall, brown-haired young man, with just a hint of a German accent. Standing ramrod-straight, feet apart, hands clasped behind his waist, he looked like some idealized image of an ADF pilot, chiseled from granite.

"Noted. Svoboda, Evzen!"

"Here, Sir," called out a stocky Second Lieutenant, nodding his shaved head respectfully at Jack.

"Noted. Swain, Richard!"

"Call me Wraith," said a lanky, redheaded Brit, giving Jack a sloppy salute. "So, this is supposedly the best fighter squadron in the Air Defense Force? God help us all."

Over the years, Jack had developed a keen ability to sense a pilot's personality, and Swain was already tripping several alarms. _Damn, this guy acts like a cartoon version of his own dossier. Crappy attitude, no respect for his unit or the other pilots in it._ "You don't like it, _Mister Swain_, you can always leave," Jack growled. "Otherwise, straighten up and show me why you deserve to be here."

The Brit shrugged, assuming something like a ready stance. "Yes, Sir," he murmured, eyeing Jack the way a college prankster might regard a particularly disliked professor.

Jack just shook his head. "All right. And, last but not least, Tukaho, Vileti."

"Actually, it's Tuku'aho, Sir," replied an enormous Tongan, his basso voice seeming to vibrate through the deckplates. The burly man grinned, showing off a dazzlingly white smile in the midst of his ebony face. "Just call me Second Lieutenant T."

"All right. My name is Lieutenant Colonel Jack Bukhar. And this man will be my second-in-command: First Lieutenant Rei Fukai."

At the mention of Rei's name, all seven sets of eyes went wide, fixing upon the tall, lean Japanese pilot in his freshly pressed ADF uniform.

"No way," Carson whispered, his mouth hanging open in shock.

"This cannot be," von Richtofen murmured, his intense brown eyes scanning Rei like a pair of lasers.

"Bloody fucking hell," Wraith said aloud. "The One Man Air Force? Jesus Christ…."

Rei swept his cool, expressionless gaze over their faces. "You all look like you've seen a ghost," he said evenly. _Maybe this whole living legend thing isn't such a bad deal after all._

"I think I'm starting to see why this whole thing was so hush-hush," Wu said quietly. "So … you did make it through the Passageway after all."

"We can discuss it later," Jack said, snapping them back to the present. "Right now, we've prepared a briefing for you new arrivals. If you'll follow me up to the main conference room, we can get started."

As the pilots made their way through the ship, blue-suited ADF personnel turned to watch the motley assortment of different uniforms going by. Finally, the nine entered Conference Room A, just beneath the bridge of the Banshee. The civilian tech, Anderson, was already waiting, prepping the projector table for Jack's briefing.

"Have a seat. We've got a lot to go over." Jack tapped some keys, and a holographic globe appeared over the table. "At 1900 hours standard time, the Antarctic carrier fleet was attacked." The globe reoriented itself, tilting to give a better view of the Southern Ocean. "The raid began without warning or provocation. First, communications and radar were jammed. Then the attackers employed some kind of electronic warfare system to hack the fleet's systems, literally shutting down the carrier, several escorts and aircraft. All of this happed in less than a minute."

"My God," murmured the Czech. "Some new kind of electronic weapon? Developed by whom?"

"By _what_ might be the better question," Jack replied. "Take a look at this."

Abruptly, the globe vanished. In its place was footage from somebody's flight recorder. As the plane rose up out of an aircraft carrier's maintenance bay, the crisp full-color picture was replaced by a grainy green image. Against dark water and a cloudy, starless sky, dozens of lights moved through the air. As the camera flew toward them, one of the lights dropped down and accelerated straight toward the camera. Whoever had taken this footage had then fired a salvo of AA fire. The oncoming bogey jerked aside, evading the shots, flashing by at the left of the screen.

"Frame back. Back. Freeze and enhance."

"Oh my God…"

With the digital image enhancement, the flight-recorder image was as clear as day. The enemy aircraft at the left was covered in gleaming black armor. Stealth technology made its outline somehow indistinct, almost ghostly. Nonetheless, to everyone in this room, the general appearance was chillingly familiar: a Y-shaped aircraft, with a brightly glowing "eye" at its center.

"A JAM fighter…?"

Jack nodded gravely. "That's right. Twenty-two of them, of four different designs." Tapping another key, the video vanished, replaced by four sinister-looking black aircraft. "These three, we're all familiar with. Type-I interceptors, Type-II fighter-bombers, and one electronic-warfare unit, which we're calling a Type-III."

"But what the hell's that other one?" Wraith asked, gesturing at the fourth hologram. "Looks like an Earth fighter, but made by JAM tech."

"Funny you should say that; it's just what we thought. Actually, while its aerodynamics seem specifically tailored to Earth's atmosphere, it's a design unlike anything we've ever seen. VTOL capability, triple engines, dual processor cores; these things seem to be some new type of air-superiority fighter. We're calling them Type Vs; they're faster, more maneuverable, and smarter than the other Types."

"But where did they all come from?" Wu asked. "Did the JAM open up a new Passageway?"

"That's just it; they haven't. Which means the JAM must have had some kind of base on Earth before we collapsed the Passageway five years ago."

The big Tongan, Tuku'aho, looked thoughtful. "You're suggesting that the JAM have established some sort of airbase here? On Earth? And nobody has noticed it?"

Jack nodded. "It's the most sensible conclusion, all things considered. We know that they can disguise themselves as humans. And we all saw the Fairy mirage; if they've brought that kind of technology to Earth, then they could hide an installation almost anywhere."

"Well," Wraith said, "that's just bloody wonderful. So how are we supposed to find the JAM if they could be hiding anywhere?"

Jack tapped some keys, and a red line appeared on the map. "After the raid, one of the JAM units was seen traveling northwest, on this heading. Assuming it was flying a straight-line course to conserve fuel, its base is probably somewhere along this line."

"This is, of course, assuming that it did not simply make a course correction somewhere along the way," von Richtofen said doubtfully.

Jack sighed. "I'll admit, there are a lot of 'maybes' and 'what ifs'. But until the JAM show themselves again, this is the best lead we've got. The line passes through several islands, part of Africa, and the northeastern tip of North America. As we speak, Banshee One is already on course to begin searching that area."

"What will we do, then?" asked Svoboda. "If they can conceal themselves so well, how will we detect them? Do we just fly overhead, and expect them to attack us? If I were trying to keep my secret base a secret, I would not send up fighters to intercept every flyover – especially not if I know the aircraft is part of a larger search effort."

The German shot Svoboda a condescending glance. "He didn't ask you," the taller man said. "Why don't you stop talking and let him finish?"

"I meant no disrespect," the Czech replied, giving von Richtofen an icy glare. "I am simply curious what they expect us to do. We are here to find and destroy aliens; first, how will we find them?"

Whatever was going on between these two, Jack decided it had gone far enough. "That's a valid question," he said. "Doctor Anderson, would you mind?"

The young lab-coated man stood up, adjusting his glasses. "Based on sensor readings taken during the evacuation of Fairy," he said, "we think the JAM use some kind of nanotechnology to generate false coverings over their installations. The covering can mimic soil, man-made structures, even plants, but can also be dissolved as needed. Assuming the JAM are using this approach to conceal themselves on Earth, all you really need is a suitably precise electromagnetic sensor system to discriminate between ordinary landforms and those comprised of JAM matter. Right now, Banshee One's sensors are being modified to do this, and by the time we arrive in our search area, we'll have modified TARPS units for each of your aircraft."

Wu raised her hand. "Speaking of which, just what will we be flying? If this does turn into a fight, and these JAM are even tougher than the ones we saw on Fairy, then we're going to need something a whole lot better than F-28s."

Jack nodded. "I think I'll let First Lieutenant Fukai explain that," he said, nodding toward Rei. As Jack sat down, Rei swept his cool, gray eyes over the other pilots. "What have you people been doing these last five years?" he asked.

Rei's direct, almost accusatory tone seemed to unsettle the newcomers. "Working at my Da's auto shop," Wraith replied with a shrug.

Wu gave a smug little smirk. "Great," she said to the Brit. "If we need an oil change, we'll call you."

"Oh, go to hell, you little—"

"Hey! Nobody talks to my wife that—!"

"SHUT UP!" Rei snarled. "The reason I asked, is because the only ones who act like they have any discipline at all are Svoboda, von Richtofen, and maybe the Tongan. You're not here to play Top Gun, or to fuck around with military aircraft. You're here because, supposedly, each of you distinguished yourselves in combat. All but two of you fought on Fairy, and if you had any sense, this briefing should have been a wake-up call.

"You're not shooting down drones now. You're not changing tires, or flipping hamburgers, or whatever the hell you've been doing since you got back. The JAM are here – not on Fairy, not on the other side of a Passageway, but _on our home planet_.

"I saw these things in action in Antarctica. They blew up a cruiser, crippled two destroyers and a missile frigate, and they damn near vaporized an aircraft carrier, all without losing a single aircraft. If it hadn't been for Yukikaze's sensors, they would have slaughtered every pilot and sailor in that fleet without being detected.

"You think the JAM were dangerous on Fairy? They were _playing_ with us. Batting us around, like a cat with a mouse. Studying us, to find any weaknesses they could exploit during their invasion. _This_ invasion.

"Well, the experiment's over now. They aren't on Earth to study us; they won't leave any test subjects lying around to mess with later. They're here to wipe us out, plain and simple. And unless you people start acting like professional, serious pilots, they will swat you out of the sky like gnats."

For five long seconds, silence ruled the conference room. Von Richtofen shifted in his seat, looking as though he wanted to respond – until Rei's eyes bored into his like a pair of lasers, and the tall German pilot seemed to shrink back into his seat.

Satisfied, Rei pulled up a series of images. "Most Earth fighters can't handle the JAM," he said, "so General Cooley has managed to pull several FAF aircraft out of mothballs. We know you haven't handled anything like them for a while, so I expect you each to log at least fifteen hours of simulator time between now and when we begin our search operation in two days."

"Fifteen hours? In two days?" blurted Carson. "That's—"

"All the preparation you'll get," Jack said, "so if I were you, I'd make the most of it."

Rei nodded. "Right now, we have three FFR-31-MR/D Super Sylphs and a Mave being fitted with modified TARPS units. All of you except Second Lieutenant Swain will be assigned to one of the Super Sylphs; you'll be given your assignments after the briefing. Second Lieutenant, your file says you were involved with the Fand-II test program, is that right?"

"Yeah, before they decided to turn them all into drones," Wraith replied.

Rei nodded again. "Good. You'll be waiting on the Banshee's launch deck, while he rest of us spread out to increase the width of our scanning area. If any of the TARPS craft encounter hostiles, you'll launch in an FA-2 to act as a first responder. Until the Banshee arrives to destroy the enemy installation, the nine of us will be responsible for keeping the JAM on the ground."

Tuku'aho frowned. "Just how many enemy aircraft are we expected to engage?"

"All of them," Rei answered grimly. "If the JAM establish an air perimeter, Banshee One might not be able to get close enough to drop its bomb load. In that case, fighter-bombers from the other squadrons would have to fly in, evade the JAM patrols, and try to knock out the base. It could take days, if it even worked at all. And it would cost lives."

"Well, why not just nuke the bastards then?" Wraith asked. "I doubt they could shoot down an ICBM coming at them at four kilometers a second."

Jack glared at the red-headed fighter jock, standing up to take Rei's place. "Oh, so now you're a strategist, Second Lieutenant? And what happens if the JAM base happens to be sitting next to a major city? We don't even know where they're hiding yet. Besides which, there are enough treaties prohibiting the use of nuclear weapons; unless you want to kick off World War III, keep that kind of talk to yourself."

Wraith held up his hands in surrender. "You're the ones saying how nasty these new JAM are," he said. "I just don't want to get killed if I don't have to."

Jack sighed. _Four secondhand planes, and seven hotshot pilots to fly them. And I thought Rei was a handful. _"Just do your jobs, and you might survive your first mission with the 101st Special Operations Squadron. This concludes your briefing; aircraft assignments will be delivered to you before the mission. In the meantime, hit those simulators if you want to live. Dismissed."


End file.
